


Bleeding Hearts And Artists

by JaeNunyah



Category: Pink Floyd
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22851319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaeNunyah/pseuds/JaeNunyah
Summary: Nick discovers Rick in Roger's bedroom.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Bleeding Hearts And Artists

**Author's Note:**

> Wright's solo album WET DREAM dropped in 1978. We all know what Waters was working on then...

The entire enclave has a freer feel when He's not anywhere in it. Nick ambles down the hall whistling a jaunty jingle, no figurative fragmentation of existential eggshell under his bare feet, at ease without worry he'll be conscripted into reading or settling some crazy new score. Noting that the door to Roger's room is uncharacteristically ajar (He rarely shuts His mouth, but ALWAYS closes His door), Nick pauses outside it.

A papery rustle from inside the sanctum almost sends him scurrying, but Nick had watched Him drive away and has since heard none of the heavy hullaballoo heralding His homecoming. Whoever's in there is flirting with disaster...

Nick eases the door open enough to spy Rick sitting on the floor amid a drift of crinkled sheets and crumpled wads beside an overturned wire wastepaper basket.

"What're you messing about with in here?" Nick's curious but slightly nervous as he steps further into this chamber than he ever has before, moving to help Rick tidy up the scattery strew so they can both get the hell out. "He'll KNOW somebody touched His stuff."

"It's MY stuff!" Rick wails, turning anguished, streaming eyes up to implore with a heartbroken sob "How COULD He?"

Nick's confounded and conflicted. "He STOLE something from you?" Sinking to his knees beside Rick, he tries to puzzle what's going on. Roger's a lot of things, some pretty shitty, but He's no thief. 

"I gave it to Him." Rick chokes out, sniffling wetly as he wipes away tears, striving unsuccessfully to forestall fall of fresh ones. "I was so proud...I worked so hard." His shoulders heave and his chest hitches as he muses miserably upon the mess. "I j-just wanted to see if He'd r-read it yet, or if it was still in His homework pile where I left it, b-but..." 

Rick is wracked with woeful weeping, and Nick finally susses the situation but has no idea what to say about it. "Oh, hey, mate..." he attempts awkwardly "Don't mind Him. Y'know how He can be. Nothin's EVER good enough unless HE wrote it."

"That's the worst part!" Rick cries, snatching up wrinkled, obviously-unwadded sheaf of sheets to wave under Nick's nose. "THIS is what HE tossed away on top of mine."

Nick recognizes Roger's chickenscratch, but can make little sense of the scrawled sentences and jotted notes. "What is it?"

"It's beautiful." Rick whispers weakly, wounded, lowering leaflet to reread ruefully while he carries on. "His mistakes...His TRASH...is better than my best."

Nick had assumed they all accepted that as a matter of course, but it's clearly tearing Rick apart. Wishing he could share some solace (Dave would know how to help, but Nick doesn't), he uprights the bin and begins refilling it with Roger's rejects. Once the floor's cleared, he stands and offers a hand to help Rick up.

Allowing himself to be pulled to his feet, Rick continues to stare sadly at the work within his grasp but far beyond his reach. "Nobody would ever listen to me while He's around."

Nick gently takes the pages from Rick's fingers and recrumples them together into a ball which he drops into the basket with one hand, still holding Rick's with the other. Leading one bandmate from another's bedroom, he shuts the door behind them with a soft snick and turns to face Rick in the hall. It pains him to acknowledge this, but perhaps it might make Rick feel better.

"I don't think He will be for much longer."


End file.
